She's So Beautifully Existential
by ahelenk
Summary: She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And not just her, but her friends and enemies too. In a series of fortunate events, she's made new friends in familiar places. However danger seems to always be just around the corner...-Full summary inside.


**Disclaimer****: I do not own the ****Twilight**** Saga**.

**A/N:** Yeah, just so you guys know, this first chapter (and maybe more to come) are pretty much 14+. It's not that graphic, but some of the material (such as this first chapter) is similar to something LifeTime would produce. I don't get graphic, so sorry to disappoint. However, I do enjoy hidden logic and meanings. I can't say that I have a style of writing yet, only because I don't consider myself skilled enough to be able to own a personal style, but I do work a lot with foreshadowing and double meanings as well as related material. If you don't know what I mean, then read this chapter for yourself and pay close attention. Also, Bella doesn't QUITE exist in this story. But, again, with me and my related material fetish, you can think of the main character as an OC Bella. I know where I'm going with this, and I'm throwing it out there for opinions and critiques. Help yourself guys. -A

P.S. Sorry if any of you find this first chapter offensive. I tried to keep it light, while still getting the point across. It doesn't get any worse than this, and I needed it as an introductory to the plot. It was sort of vital like that. But again, LifeTime related, and meant for 14+. Heed the warning folks.

**Summary:** It started out as just being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Though not just for Evy, but for her friends, and even her enemies as well. She now finds comfort in the supernatural world that she has come to terms with as "normal," but she can't help but look over her shoulder every now and then for pursuing danger. In an effort to stay alive, she finds herself running scared, never being able to stay in one place for too long, and drifting between coasts. Through a series of fortunate events, she finds new friends in familiar places, and regains the strength she needs to fight off her demons. But how hard will she have to fight, and though she insists on fighting alone, are her odds really in her favor? Her friends don't think so. And her enemies believe the same. It's a story of loyalty, trust, unforgivable mistakes, unspeakable evil, and unbeknownst love. (Definitely worth a chance, if you ask me ;) -A)

_**For the Best**_

_And it takes more time than I've ever had._

_Drains the life from me,_

_Makes me want to forget._

_As young as I was, I felt older back then;_

_More disciplined._

_Stronger and certain._

_But I was scared to death of eternity._

_I was saved by grace,_

_But destroyed by naivety._

_And I lied to myself,_

_And said, "It was for the best."_

_And now faith is replaced with a logic so cold._

_I've disregarded what I was_

_Now that I'm older._

_And I know much more than I did back then,_

_But the more I learn,_

_The more I can't understand._

_And I've become content with this life that I lead:_

_Where I drink too much_

_And don't believe in much of anything._

_And I lie to myself,_

_And say, "It's for the best."_

_**-Straylight Run**_

_**Beautifully Existential**_

_Andi_

_Chapter One_

_Memories_

The music was so loud, it was deafening. The beat pulsated through my skin, into my arteries, through the flow of my blood, down to the core of my bones. Its ending goal was to give me a headache that straddled that thin line separating it from a migraine.

This was why I hated clubs. This was why I hated parties. This was why I stayed in every night.

This was not my scene.

How is this considered _fun_? I'm certainly not having that great of a time… There are too many bodies congested in this tiny little room. Too many bodies bumping into each other, taking up what little space there was left to stand in, inhaling what little air there was left to breathe, absorbing what little of the cool night's wind was left in the building's basement. It was too hot, too suffocating, and too _too_ crowded.

Maybe it's because I'm a claustrophobic, or maybe it's because I'm known to be somewhat anti-social. Whatever the reason, it's leaving me wishing—no—_praying _that we could leave soon.

But the more I analyzed the environment, the quicker realization set in: I'm still going to be here for a while.

I couldn't find any of my friends; they'd all blended into the crowd, split up and abandoned each other to find someone new, someone more interesting. Even as I roamed my clutch for my cell phone, I already knew there wouldn't be any missed calls or unread text messages alerting me to someone's distress or exhaustion.

However, in my quest to find my vital link to the outside world, I did come across a set of keys.

That's right.

Chris's keys. I took these from him. I'm DD tonight. Well, I'm DD every night. At least, every night that I accompany them out.

Huh.

I could leave.

I could leave right now.

I could leave and head back to the apartments, and convince them in the morning that they had _insisted_ that I leave, and that they had promised me that they had a ride set up. I could even embellish the story and say that they had a ride set up with some girls that they met here, or with a group of people who were heading to another party later on. Then I could tack on the whole, _Oh, did they leave you there? Why didn't you just call me to come pick you guys back up?_ And when they say that they did call—because I know they'll call either way when Chris's car and I are suddenly missing—I'd just tell them that the call never went through or that my phone never received anything, and blame the whole thing on misunderstandings and lack of cellular service. Either way, they'd be too drunk to realize it's all a story.

This plan could work.

This plan could _easily_ work.

This plan had no flaws that I could see of.

This plan was borderline _genius_.

HA! This plan was simply devilish!

…

This plan was wrong.

This plan wasn't devilish, it was _childish_.

I'm the DD. Not just because I got caught pulling the short straw, but because I _choose_ not to drink. Because I'm the responsible one. Because, if something ever happened to any one of friends—my _family_—I don't know what I'd do with myself. I volunteered for this position. I always do. And tonight was no different than any of those other nights. I stuck it out then, I could stick it out now.

I just had to remember, _again_, not to go out next time.

Well this is definitely it.

There won't ever be a next time. I won't ever do this again. Why keep putting myself in uncomfortable situations like this? Is it doing anyone any good? I don't think so… Me being here just means everybody gets to drink. That can't be healthy. In fact, it would be healthier (for both parties involved) if I stayed home on these nights. At least then one of them is forced to become an under aged alcoholic at a (slightly) slower pace, right? Besides. I'm paid to babysit on the weekdays already. I was lucky to have my weekends off. So why am I spending them working over-time?

Yeah, it's definitely settled. This isn't happening again.

I tried to scan the crowd one more time to see if I could find anyone, just so I wasn't standing by myself.

Nope.

I had no idea where they were.

Oh well.

I guessed since I had Chris's keys, I could just go sit in the car and wait for them. Maybe even fall asleep for an hour or so. That would be better than standing in a sea of people.

As I headed to the stairwell that led up and out of this basement, body after body collided into me. One girl was even reckless and graceless enough to spill whatever alcohol she was drinking right down the front of my dress.

Wonderful.

"Hey! You need some help, sweetheart?"

There was some shouting from behind me—which was impressive since I didn't think any one person could be louder than the music alone.

I tried to look over in the direction of the voice while I ruthlessly dabbed my dress to death, hoping that the alcohol wouldn't seep through anymore than it had. When I finally found the source, a taller man was looking right at me with a smug smile chiseled across his face.

I assumed he was the one shouting at me.

Even better. I had the honor of attracting an audience while I was at it.

I rolled my eyes in his direction, and replied, "Thanks but no thanks. I'm leaving." Assuming further that he couldn't hear me anyway.

I pulled myself together, then made another effort to fight for the door.

"Here, let me help."

His voice was right next to me now. When I looked up, I understood immediately why it must have been easier for him to maneuver through the pack. He had to have been 6'1" or 6'2", while I only stood at a 5'2" nothing.

He grabbed my free hand while wedging his way in front of me, and pulled me swiftly through the crowd, as if it were no effort at all.

When we made it through the door and to the empty street, I was a little taken aback. It was almost uncomfortable having a male stranger lead me through a crowd by hand so casually. But as I rethought the gesture, I brushed it off.

He's just being nice. In fact, I should be more grateful. If it weren't for his acute attention towards my misery, I'd still be stuck in a mass of sweaty bodies with more alcohol on me.

I pulled my hand from his as soon as I could, and headed straight for the parking lot, muttering a "thanks" as I walked away.

"Hey, hey! Wait!" He half laughed and pleaded. "Is there an emergency or something?"

I stopped where I was, about thirty feet or so from him, and turned around at his question.

He was standing near the door to the basement still, but he was cautiously taking a few steps towards me, all the while seeming patient for my answer.

That's when I noticed that this lean and thin, 6'2" gentlemen was actually quite appealing. He was dressed in club attire with a nice button down shirt, dress pants, and alligator dress shoes. And, though, most of the men inside were dressed quite similarly, there was still something about this one that seemed almost… delicious.

He was sweet to look at.

Like eye-candy.

His black hair was untidy, but not unkempt. And his blue eyes were soft, yet piercing and mesmerizing all the same.

Wow.

I guessed I could linger a few more minutes before I called it a night.

After giving him my quick once-over, I decided he deserved an answer, at the least.

"No, no emergency. Just needed some fresh air." I smiled a grateful smile at his concern.

He smiled back and took a few more steps in my direction.

"Ha, I could tell. You looked like you were drowning in there. But I understand. I needed some fresh air too, so I figured I could take a shot at joining you. Would you mind?"

I smiled even bigger at this. "No of course not. Do you mind if I have a cigarette? I think it could only help me at this point." I laughed a little at the end of that statement.

"No, please, go ahead. I'll have one with you."

He gestured toward the side of the building near the sidewalk, and I followed him to sit down on the pavement.

I again began rummaging through my clutch, this time for my pack and my lighter, but he was quicker. He pulled out one of his 100's and handed me a stick.

I smiled and took it from him, muttering that I'd give him one back before I left and call it even.

I gripped the cigarette in my mouth and dug through my purse one more time for my lighter, but again, he was one step ahead of me. He held his lighter out in front of me, flame already lit.

I looked at him with a little shock and appreciation quickly before I lit the end of the cigarette in the flame, hoping that my pause didn't come off as rude.

He laughed and quickly lit himself his own cigarette and took a quick puff before turning to me.

"Pretty ladies should never have to light their own cigarette."

I flushed a little at his flattery, and replied with a "thank you."

I started to looking a little more closely at the strong and fowl smelling, damp stain on my dress to preoccupy myself, when I heard him inhale one more puff of his cigarette and say, "My name is Bryan."

I tilted my head upwards to look at him while he blew smoke out of his mouth, his hand extended towards mine.

I flicked my cigarette casually, grasped his hand with my other and replied, "Hi, I'm Evan."

"Evan? Did you're parents not have a back up name in case you were born female?" Bryan chuckled.

I scowled at him playfully. Like I haven't heard that one before. "Oh wow, should I prepare myself for anymore good curves you might have up your sleeves?" I asked in retaliation.

He just laughed in response, and somewhere within his joy I heard a half-hearted apology.

I rolled my eyes at his delight.

"Evan's short for Evangeline." I continued, making light conversation. "My mom had a weird obsession with unique names when she was carrying me. I don't think she realized at first that she named me after a religion… So to balance it out with some sense of normalcy, I prefer to go by Evan or Evy for short."

"Evangeline?" He asked with a still-too-taunting tone. "Should I expect you to have brothers named Christian and Luther then, too…?" He closed his eyes and laughed a little harder at his stupid joke.

I punched him playfully in the arm, then gave up and went back to smoking my cigarette and rubbing at my dress.

"Well, Evy," He said using my nick name after a few minutes of silently laughing, "I think your name is lovely, and you look even lovelier in that dress."

I looked up, a blush creeping up on my cheeks, and stared at him for a moment, judging whether he meant what he just said, or whether he was just trying to recover the mood.

When I finally agreed that it was a sincere compliment, I smiled and thanked him, a little embarrassed.

We finished our cigarettes in silence, with me rubbing at the dampness in my black dress, and him checking his watch every now and then. After we flicked our buds into the street, we both stood up simultaneously.

"I'm just going to grab a water bottle from my truck." Bryan stated, glancing between me and where his truck must have been parked, to the right of us in the lot. "Were you heading out, or would you like to keep me company for a little while longer?"

I glanced in the direction of Bryan's truck as well, then back to the door on the building that led to the over-crowded club, and finally back to Bryan, trying to read the look on his handsome face.

His blue eyes were bright, almost looking as though they were dancing from the way the streetlight lit his face and sparkled in his iris'. But his smile seemed smug, almost coaxing, as if he were judging me, or as if he had already judged me, and knew the answer I was going to give him.

Did he think I was going to leave?

No…

He thinks I'll stay. He thinks he's irresistible. He thinks that he's made up my mind, and that I find him attractive.

Ha. It's funny, only because he is attractive, and yet, out of spite, and maybe even pride, I'm going to leave. I don't chase boys. And though this boy seemed sober enough, I would further _die_ before I chased a boy at a _club_.

Those boys chase me.

And I lead them to a dead end.

"I'll tell ya what." I said, a little smug myself now, after realizing this game he started. "I'll go with you to get your water, but then I'm going to go back in there, say goodbye to a few people, now that I'm a little more level-headed, then take off."

Bryan looked at me for a second. But I couldn't tell if he expected me to say that, or if I took him by surprise.

This man had a good poker face.

"Ok." He said. Then he smiled, and started walking towards his truck.

I grabbed my clutch and followed behind him, letting him walk a good ten feet or so ahead of me, all the while I half searched for Chris's car in the lot, trying to remember where we'd parked it last.

Bryan's truck was parked in the corner spot in the very last row, furthest from the club. It was nearly invisible as it sat sleepily in the blanket of shadows that the tall bushes provided next to the high wooden fence.

He walked over to the side of his truck, unlocked it with his keys that I hadn't noticed hanging from his back belt-loop, and opened the massive door with ease. As he leaned into the car for his water bottle, I leaned against the hood, waiting patiently.

He reappeared from behind his truck's door, screwing the cap back on a half empty bottle of water. He looked at me for a minute, then looked back at his water. He laughed quickly, then held the water out to me.

"Sorry, I'm being rude! Did you want a sip before I throw it away?"

I looked at the water hesitantly. I _was_ thirsty. But I felt bad taking his water from him.

"You're going to throw it away…?" I asked, trying to find a justifiable reason for me to steal this man's water.

"It's a little warm and stale. I'll just buy myself something new to drink when I get back inside, even though I hate spending more money on overpriced beverages." He added as an after-thought.

I looked back at the water. I _wasn't _going to spend anymore money tonight. And I wasn't _really_ going home anytime soon. So why not? He said he was going to throw it away… warm water is still water.

I took the water graciously from his outstretched hand, and unscrewed the cap that he had just screwed back on.

In that instant I had an uneasy feeling. It reminded me of women's intuition almost. I looked at the water, then back to Bryan, who was giving me a very quizzical look.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"Yeah," I replied, almost too quickly. "Just got the chills." I added, not really lying. I _did_ get the chills, as though they were supposed to accompany that off sense. I felt as though something bad was about to happen.

I looked back at Bryan, trying to judge if maybe the feeling was directed towards him. But I couldn't be sure, for the only look he was sending back to me was filled with concern and worry.

I shook my head lightly, as if to shake away the feeling, and I heard him laugh in response to my obviously silly action.

"Someone's had a little too much to drink…" He laughed again, then made a move to take the bottle from me. "Maybe water isn't the best idea then."

"No, I'm fine." I replied stubbornly and pulled the water closer to me. "I actually haven't had anything to drink. I think it was just the breeze blowing. You know, gave me the chills." With that I put the bottle to my lips and took a quick swig.

The water was warm. And _very_ stale. But it was still refreshing none the less. I put the rim of the bottle back to my lips, and this time nearly downed what was left, only leaving maybe a fourth of a cup when I was finished.

Bryan watched me with perplexed eyes.

When I pulled the bottle away, I dabbed at my lips, removing any lingering droplets.

"Thirsty?" Bryan asked with a little bit of a chuckle.

"Just a little." I smiled sheepishly at him.

He turned and started for the club again, and I followed gripping the nearly empty bottle in my hand.

As I took a few more steps towards the basement door, I started to feel a little light headed and dizzy.

I had no idea where these feelings were coming from… I had never felt so tense and so… _sloppy_… from one bad intuition. I felt as though I were slipping away from reality, and into a nightmare.

Whatever was happening, I couldn't wait to fake my goodbyes, and hide out in the car. I _needed_ to rest my head. Maybe even eat something.

It was so odd. In the few minutes it took to walk back to the basement, my adrenaline sky-rocked, my vision blurred, my head felt feather-light, and my stomach churned angrily.

Something was wrong.

Well, now at least I had a good reason to leave.

When we stepped silently into the over-populated and obnoxiously loud room, I willed myself to keep it together for a little while longer. Maybe I was coming down with the flu. That would explain all my symptoms. Including the chills.

I scanned the room again, as I had earlier, looking for my familiar faces.

They were still blended in with the crowd.

Literally.

In fact, I couldn't make out even one _unfamiliar_ face. Everything was spinning, blurring into a twisted and obscured scene.

I squinted my eyes, as if maybe that would benefit me in the situation.

"Hey, I have to make one more stop—are you all right?"

Bryan was beside me now, suddenly gripping my shoulders to hold me up.

Was I falling?

Apparently my balance was slightly off, or at least off enough where he needed to steady me.

"You need to sit. You don't look so good…"

He took me by my hand again, as he did earlier, and this time I was grateful for his help.

He led me to the back of the club where a narrow hallway was hidden behind the mass wall of people.

Down the hallway were various rooms, each with their doors shut. He led me to the last one on the right side of the hall, where a dim light was glowing from the door that was creaked slightly open. When he pushed the door open, I was able to make out a desk littered with flyers and papers and an old telephone. There was one big chair behind the desk, and two smaller, more uncomfortable ones stationed in front of it.

But that was all I was willing to make out of the room, for after that, my eyes closed, unwilling to open again for fear that if they had to watch the swirling room any longer, my angry stomach would let loose.

Bryan sat me down in one of the chairs; I assumed it was one of the two in front of the desk based on how awkward it felt. I leaned heavily against the back of the chair, willing it to regain some weight.

I let out a slow, trembling breath, my eyes still closed. I could feel my fingers grip tighter around the bottle that was still in my hands, and heard it's plastic crackle and give way under the pressure.

"Shh." I heard Bryan whisper, and felt his cool hand graze the side of my cheek and wipe away some of the dampness that was beginning to perspire on my forehead.

And then I laughed.

It sounded almost hysterical.

Why was I laughing? What was funny about this situation?

But with my eyes still closed, and my head bent back against the chair, I continued to laugh.

I felt Bryan take the bottle from my grasp, and heard him chuckle to himself.

"Someone DID drink too much…"

I laughed even harder at him, even though this moment wasn't getting any funnier.

"I need to find my friends!" I blurted, laughing hysterically in between words.

"Ha ha, ok, where's your phone? I'll call them to come pick you up and take you home." He chuckled again.

"In my purse." I whispered this time, inhaling deeply, and exhaling almost as quickly with more hysterical laughter.

I heard him rummage through my clutch, then spill its contents out across a hard surface. The desk, I imagined.

And then he laughed to himself again.

I waited a few moments to listen to him make the calls, and I could feel a goofy smile taint my lips.

Besides the thumping bass of the music outside and the muffled voices of its dancers, the room stayed silent.

My smile widened.

This wasn't right.

I felt his cool hand against my face again, then felt his breath against my neck.

"Why are you still smiling?" He whispered in my ear.

The chills came back. And this time they made me even more hysterical than I already was. I breathed another giggle and whispered back, "I honestly don't know, but your breath is tickling me."

I felt his thumb graze the smile on my lips and his breath fall across my skin one more time when he replied, "…and does that bother you?"

My heart skipped a beat.

The chills intensified. And it wasn't just because of his presence.

This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

"Yes." I whispered, my eyes shooting open.

He was leaning his entire body over mine, I couldn't see past his massive shoulders, but I could feel the room spinning still. I made a move to sit up, pressing my hands against his brawny chest.

"Shh." He whispered again, this time into the side of my hair, and I felt his other hand slide over my waist, while the hand on my cheek slid down and cupped around my neck. "You're sick. You should stay seated." He persuaded smoothly.

I turned my head towards him.

He met me half way, and before I could say anything else, his lips were crushing mine.

I tried to groan a "no" somewhere in between his movements, but again, I just started giggling a throaty, hysterical giggle.

He slipped his hand tighter around my waist, and secured the thumb on his other hand over my jaw, adding some pressure and making me gasp in pain.

He took my gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

It was at that moment that I pushed forcefully on his chest to free myself from under him.

He lost his footing at my push, and let go of me to regain his posture. I took the moment to slide from under him and stand myself up, my goal being to head for the door and find my way back to my friends.

But as soon as I stood up, my head became feather-light once more, and my vision couldn't find a means of balance, throwing off my footing as well. I staggered into the desk to brace myself.

He whipped around in the second that it took for me to stand up—and fall again—and grabbed me forcefully by my hand, pulling my weight into him, then maneuvering me over the desk that I had been using to steady myself.

"NO!" I shouted.

I threw my free hand at him, aiming for his face, and felt it collide against his cheek.

Time felt like it stopped at that moment.

The room stopped spinning at that moment.

My head felt secure at that moment.

My balance was steady again at that moment.

And in that brief moment, that had only lasted maybe half a second, I remembered his words. _Someone DID drink too much._

And I heard the double meaning in that moment.

And I knew what was happening in that moment.

…

Too bad that moment couldn't have lasted any longer.

When time decided to start back up again, I stole a glance at his face, seeing my horrified expression in his fierce blue eyes. His face mirrored mine, but then instantaneously turned to ravaged anger.

He grabbed me by my hair that had been so neatly tied behind my head, and yanked me further over the top of the desk. He let go of my captured wrist, and instead arched his arm back over his opposite shoulder to gain momentum, and I watched as it came forcefully down on me.

I felt the pain sear through the whole side of my head, and felt the tears well up in my eyes involuntarily. The room felt as though it had fallen into a hyper-spin now.

"LET ME GO!" I shouted frantically. It sickened me that I could still hear the hysteria in my voice, as well as subtle laughter.

I sounded insane.

But I knew what was happening.

I reached my hands up, slapping at him, clawing at him with my nails, trying to maneuver my legs to score a kick in somewhere at his body.

He pinned himself on top of me, moving my flailing legs out and around him so he stood in between them.

I panicked even more, and made a fatal attempt to wound him as best as I could, digging my nails into his forehead, and ripping downwards across his cheek and ending at his mouth.

"ARGHH!" I screamed in pain and frustration.

I felt him pull one of his hands back, and in an instant, I felt nothing but scorching pain and warm liquid flow across my face.

I was loosing consciousness by then I think.

I couldn't feel anything else anymore.

I couldn't feel his fist repeatedly hammer against my face, I couldn't feel him stop to slide his hands elsewhere over me. I could only barely see the room continue to spin through my blurry, crimson vision.

And then I think he stopped.

My vision went from red to black.

And I could hear blood-curdling screams.

Were those my screams? I didn't think I was screaming… In fact, I was sure that I had stayed silent; I was sure I had no energy left to scream, even if I wanted to.

But I heard muffled, horrified screams.

I imagine this was my conscious, screaming in agony at what I had gotten myself into. Screaming at me for not paying attention to my body's previous warning. Screaming at me for being so naïve.

And the screaming didn't stop.

And I couldn't stay awake long enough to continue to listen to it.

Everything faded to silence.

**A/N:** Again, this is a little different from the Twilight series. Yeah, sorry Bella fans. She doesn't exist here. But you can find pieces of her in Evy, I promise :) This is my version of Twilight. A little more mature, a little more angst and a little more agony. Personally, it's what I would have liked to read from Ms. Meyer. But we can't all get what we want. So I'm doing it myself! If you don't like it, or if you find this offensive (and I promise, this is the worst it's going to get--I just needed to this to start it off) you don't have to continue. We read these on or own free will. So don't post a comment saying how you hated it and how you're never going to read it. Because then i'll know you're UNDER 14, and i'll know that you didn't bother reading the author's note prior. In any case, if that's your reaction, do yourself a favor and don't waste your time, which will inevitably help me from wasting mine. But, on a lighter note, if you enjoyed it so far, let me know! I do enjoy encouragement :)


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